


[InsertValue] Ways to Say I Love You

by Keaton Collective (Creeper_Keaton)



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Canon compliant Hordak Grumpiness, F/F, F/M, How to say 'I love you' without saying it, M/M, Mild Glimbow, Mild Scorfuma, No Beta, Post-Series, SUCH FLUFF, Snapshots in love, The teensiest hint of WrongTrouble, With dashes of insecurity, because of who i am as a person, does it count if they are already in love but don't know it, friends-to-lovers, mild catradora
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-10
Updated: 2020-07-10
Packaged: 2021-03-05 00:55:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25175734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Creeper_Keaton/pseuds/Keaton%20Collective
Summary: We have reached 75 subscribers (77 by the time I finished writing this, holy guys!) on of Etheria, thank you all so very much!To show my thanks, a snapshot story about love, and how you don't always have to say those words to know. Featuring one Spacebat and his tiny Science Wife.
Relationships: Entrapta/Hordak (She-Ra), Other Background Relationships - Relationship
Comments: 28
Kudos: 158





	[InsertValue] Ways to Say I Love You

**Author's Note:**

> Remember how I am in fact a writer for a huge ongoing story and I spent hours writing this instead? Oops. Worth it.
> 
> A compilation story of sorts, based on a number of prompts found on Tumblr. Please enjoy, and apologies for any jilted writing. Un-beta'd, and you should all know by now that my beta is about 87% of my directive flow.

  * _Holding their hands when they are shaking_



The clean-up efforts of Beast Island were going better than Hordak had anticipated. Nightmarish tales had been spun about the dark jungles, and while they were  _ mostly _ true, they certainly had little effect against an army of clones.

Once Entrapta had shut down the mind-warping signal, what did clones have to fear from pookas and serpents when they had already lost their everything?

The princesses kept a close eye on the procession, Queen Glimmer herself popping in with a new 'supervisor' (read, princess volunteer) nigh-daily. Hordak ignored them, choosing to focus on the technology littering nearly every surface of the island. Most of the princesses stayed out of his way, and he was quietly pleased by it.

Keeping up with Entrapta on an island composed of a veritable treasure trove of scientific discovery was more than enough to keep him busy. He didn’t have the energy to deal with their pettiness on top.

And then Perfuma took her watch.  By all observation, Perfuma was a kind young woman. Perhaps not to him, and he had no issue with that. He had tried to poison her kingdom, after all. But with the clones she at least attempted basic Etherian decency.

Oddly, he found Perfuma tolerable.

Until he saw her casually sling a vine around Entrapta’s waist, trying to tug her away from a deep part of the woods. Seemingly unperturbed by the fact that Entrapta squawked at the pull, that she obviously fought it. Emotion hit him like a wave, cresting in his chest until it overflowed. Anger. Rage. So very familiar.

“Unhand her this instant!”

In his mind, he had yelled. It was no more volume than he would have used for a disrespectful soldier. Entrapta later told him he had more roared the words at the Plumerian princess. But the sight of her attempting to wrangle Entrapta,  _ leashing _ her like one would a dog, was more than he could take. How  _ dare _ she treat Entrapta that way, the  _ gall _ of-

He only realized he was shaking when hands folded around his own. First, one set made from beautifully dusky violet hair, and then a second, more unsure pair, flesh-and-bone-and-glove. He stared at their conjoined hands, a feeling of awe at the sight. Her hands, so small against his own, were strong, squeezing gently until the tremors of rage faded.

(Perfuma avoided them for the rest of her stay. Hordak was only too happy, and reminded of her folly as often as he could in the form of a dark, bitter glare. If Entrapta took one of his hands every time he did it, who was he to complain?)

  
  


  * _Getting their favourite meal when they are having a bad day_



The wealth of First Ones tech they had received from the Island meant Entrapta had been more-or-less unavailable for basic conversation. Not that she ignored him, mind you (not that he  _ needed  _ the constant attention). She still hollered cheerful "good morning"s and tossed a wave whenever he entered or left the room. Though her response was always the same, it never failed to make him smile. 

He liked to think he had a good handle on her behaviours after a week of the routine.

So when he entered the room, already feeling a smile nudging at his lips, he was a bit- crestfallen- when she didn't even turn to wave at him. He stepped beside her work desk, careful to avoid disturbing a precarious mountain of tech as he set down a small tray of tiny, nutritious foods. She didn't even glance at him, her mask firmly hiding her face, and he felt his chest clench. He hesitated at her side for a moment, claws absently alternating a cadence against the surface of the tray before he gave it up for a loss. 

Whatever project she was working on, it was clearly more important than he.

(He tried not to let that thought sit in his mind)

After the second tray was ignored, he felt irritated. If she was so absorbed in a project, then it was likely a tricky one, and she could have asked him for help! But still she worked, head down and hair cutting her off from the world.

(The thought stagnated, festering.  _ Unworthy _ )

By the third neglected tray, concern started to battle his self esteem. With Entrapta so silent, he realized other missing sounds in the lab. There were no screeches from a playful Imp, no crashes and bangs from a clumsy Emily. Perhaps he wasn't the issue after all. There was a much larger problem at hand.

It took a small amount of snooping to find Emily, and he felt ashamed to only just discover the cause for Entrapta’s withdrawal. Emily was charging, light slowly blinking, but connected to her were multiple data pads and wires. All flashed the same red letters.

- **ERROR-**

How long had Emily been offline? A handful of hours, a day? Was this why she was so focused on sifting through the First Ones tech, to fix the malfunctioning robot?

He glanced at the small woman hunkered over the desk, furiously working away.

He had no doubt she would fix her; Entrapta was a master of all things technology. But that didn't mean her emotional state wasn't still in shambles. He had a feeling she didn't require assistance with the repairs. She would have asked already if she did. So perhaps he could find some other way to help...

(The kitchen staff of Dryl never enjoyed Hordak's visits. He was brooding and miserable, but at least he was less particular than the princess. Until he paraded in one day with a list of demands, all for tiny foods in a wide assortment of sweet. It took them four hours to get the spread together. Four hours of labour invoked curiosity, so when he came to collect the tray they followed behind, all the way to the newly dubbed Dryl Sanctum. When he set the tray down in front of their princess, and she lifted her faceplate with watering eyes, even they could see a bond. There was a swell of pride when the tray was returned to the kitchen, the tall ex-warlord studying them quietly. He nodded in thanks, just once. It was the first time they had been acknowledged for their work. Maybe Hordak wasn't so bad for the kingdom after all.)

  * _Buying them something unrequested_



Entrapta dangled into the room, glancing around from her vantage point at the vent opening. The Royal Audience Chamber was empty, and while that was normally her preference, it was a bit of a let-down for her current mission.

With a sigh she dropped down, her hair cushioning the distance. It was a long walk to the doors, the huge room pointlessly lacking the clutter that she personally found relaxing.

The overly large doors- matching the room but entirely impractical- flew open under the strength of her hair. She waved cheerfully at the guards (they screamed in return, which seemed a bit rude), before she casually strolled out and wandered the halls of Bright Moon.

She much preferred the darkness of the vents, but she was 98% certain she would not find Bow in them.

He was a good guy, Bow. He knew the importance of a good tool kit.

Which was precisely why she hoped he could help her.

Now that she and Hordak shared a workspace (their _Sanctum_ , her mind happily reminded), there were the occasional squabbles over who owned what tools. Usually those squabbles were solved by whoever could run with them fast enough (her) or who could hold them higher (also her). But she **did** feel a bit guilty, always nabbing tools from him.

Which was why she needed a member of the Etherian Makers Community. Who else would know where to buy a solid-quality six-sided hex driver?

And, really, what else could she give Hordak but that? It was the catalyst to their partnership. His own driver had become her favourite tool, and was incidentally the one they fought over the most.

If only she could find Bow.

It became a game, walking to whatever door she could see and throwing it open with a flourish. It also turned out, when you were unexpected in a castle, people were far more likely to help you quickly, if only to get rid of your faster. She'd have to try it in other kingdoms, to see if the hypothesis was sound.  
  
  


(All awkwardness aside at catching Glimmer and Bow smooching, she was delighted by the end results; direction to a shop where she found one hex driver, the metal painted a deep ruby red. And Hordak, upon going to scold her for stealing his hex driver yet **again** , had been stunned into silence when she had presented it to him. If he made a little hip sling to carry it close, she wouldn't point it out as the incredibly thoughtful thank you that it was. Though she certainly logged it in her Hordak Behavioral Studies document.)

  * _Sharing a soft smile in a crowded room_



Hordak was thankful that the halls of Salineas had so many nooks and crannies to slip into. With how the people of the kingdom looked at him, it was better to remain unnoticed.

And so he tapped away at his data pad, slipping from corner to corner as he studied the layout of the palace, the basic architecture. If he was to rebuild, it was better to start with a solid theoretical understanding of the city.

He walked into an occupied room, noting how a trickling waterfall helped dampen the sounds of various conversation. He made a quick private note, pleased with the audio buffer. Entrapta might even appreciate something similar in their workspace. His pause to make note drew attention, and heads turned his way. As was custom whenever he was spotted, a quick heated discourse rippled through the crowd, most folk shifting farther away as they watched him with open hostility. But they stayed in the room, an unusual thing. Usually they would rather flee than tolerate his presence.

And then he noted the stocky princess of Dryl, being drawn this way and that in the heart of the crowd as the people of Salineas demanded answers to their questions.

Entrapta  **hated** to be crowded.

He was already halfway across the room, strides long and expression thunderous, when she looked over and caught his eye. She was stressed, he could see that plain as day, but she made a little hand motion, a clear thumbs up. He slid to a stop, eyes narrowed in concern as she was distracted by yet another voice. He knew her, perhaps better than he knew himself some days, and that signal had clearly meant that she was perfectly fine.

Every muscle screamed at him to storm over there, break up the crowd, rescue her from her discomfort. But-

She rose slightly higher, head now above the crowd. He noted the way that only her hair was in any type of contact with them. Her hands gesticulated wildly, excitedly (she was waxing poetic about the First Ones technology required to fix the Gate), and  _ very  _ carefully out of reach of any wayward grabby citizens. She knew what she was doing.

She looked back over to him, fully making eye contact this time, and suddenly just beamed.

Her words halted long enough for the folk to follow her gaze, but he couldn't be bothered by their stares this time. Because Entrapta was looking at him, pausing her excited technological explanations just to smile in his direction. She  _ loved  _ talking about First Ones technology, and she had a crowd actually listening.

She was putting it on hold just to smile. At him.

His heart hammered, an unusual response, but he felt the beginnings of a smile as he easily stepped back. She mouthed words, smile turning to a grin as she remembered her former tangent, and just like that the moment passed. But his mind replayed her smile, her silent message.

_ Thank you for trusting me. _

_ ( _ It was the first time Hordak realized that he, _perhaps_ , got a little emotionally involved when the Princess of Dryl was concerned. It was a monumental effort, learning to take a step back. It had nothing to do with not trusting Entrapta- she could tell him he could walk through flame unharmed and he would believe that she had bent physics to make it so. It had to do with trusting _himself_. It was a lesson that would take a long time to fully understand. But he had a feeling she would be helping him every step of the way.)

  * _Bringing them a plate of their favourite fruit_



Entrapta hadn't spoken to Perfuma since the awkward incident on Beast Island. She hadn't had much reason to, either.

Perfuma dealt with organic things, Entrapta preferred non-organic. Even on the most fundamental level they disagreed.

But. Sacrifices had to be made. Especially for the sake of scientific learning!

She had arrived at Plumeria, and the sight of orchards stretching as far as the eye could see had made- well, it made her want to skip the whole unpleasantness of chatting and just take what she needed. With so much produce, how would Perfuma notice a few missing fruits?

But. While they didn't agree on subjects of study, they did have one glaring similarity. And that was being a princess. Normally Entrapta didn't worry much about her princess role, but with Hordak and the clones trying to make a home on Etheria, it might be good for her to get in good with the others. If only to make their transition easier.

And Hordak was working  _ so  _ hard on Salineas. It was her turn to work hard at something.

That didn't mean she was entirely comfortable, half an hour later, to be standing in a field with the other girl.

"Could you please remind me what fruit you're interested in?"

Entrapta glanced around, taking in the bright red apples and weighty speckled pears. That was about all she could name off the top of her head. Most of her fruit came cooked and in cupcakes, thank you very much. But Hordak didn't seem to be a fan of her baked confections, so... "Ah, all. Yes. All of them."

"You want… all of the fruit? Like, one of each? Why…?"

Ah, questions about her theories! That, she could answer.

"Well, it has recently come to my attention that Hordak- and by extension, the clones- do  **very** well on a mainly frugivorous diet. This is not to say they  _ can't  _ eat meat, but it seems to do more harm than good in large doses." Perfuma blinked heavily, and Entrapta scritched at her chin with a strand of hair. "you  **do** know what frugivorous means, right? It's a diet consisting of fruit."

"I- yes, but, what do you mean, recentl-"

" **Great** ! Anyway! Since Hordak has never had the opportunity to eat actual fruit, I have  _ no  _ idea what his favourite would be. And honestly, everyone should have a favourite  **something** , so I wanted to let him try  **everything** !"

"He's never eaten fruit before?"

"Oh, no, apparently he has only eaten ration bars. And the clones were given liquid supplements, according to his notes."

Perfuma's eyes went from dazed to ablaze, and she grabbed the biggest basket she could find. "No one sets foot on this planet without trying some of the best fruit we have to offer! Buckle up, because we have a  **long** day of picking ahead of us!"

(Six hours of fruit-picking labour was barely a price to be paid to hear Hordak say, with finality, that figs were his favourite. If she reached out to Perfuma for a massive quantity of the fruit, as well as ways to prepare it, it was of no business to anyone else.)

  * _Taking a picture together to print and hang up_



A diet of actual food, and not just manufactured nutrient bars, had done something for Hordak that had taken him a number of weeks to notice. He avoided reflective surfaces out of habit; he was not vain, and his face was mirrored by the multiple clones that wandered the Kingdom of Dryl and beyond. What purpose did he have to see more of the same, even if the clones now slowly came in a spectrum of colours?

But one morning, while he steadfastly polished a sheet of metal, he caught a glimpse of his own reflection. Not much had changed, it was still obviously  **him** .

And yet he looked… healthier. Less gaunt, with actual firmness to the flesh under his eyes. Even beneath the kohl he could see that the darkened circles had eased.

Was this what a healthy diet did?

It teased at his thoughts more as a handful of days passed, that Entrapta had helped him become healthy. And as he carted lab work through the halls of Dryl, he found himself crossing the main foyer more often. Passing the smiling picture of Entrapta, her robotic parents smiling down at her.

Her corner of the lab was heartily decorated with pictures, both hand-drawn and photographed. Scribbles by Imp, doodles by Scorpia. One photo of Scorpia, Catra, and Entrapta before Prime had nearly taken everything away. And even recently, the three of them sitting with tiny cups of cocoa, Catra looking abashed and awkward next to the exuberance of the other two.

She had no pictures of him.

Would she want one, or would it make her wall of happy memories look more dour? He toyed with the idea as he walked, tapping at his data pad in a way others might call anxious.

He had opened his camera application three times before he made it back to the lab.

Entrapta was wrestling with Emily with much gusto. Whether it was a basic checkup after the malfunction scare months ago or just for fun, it was impossible to tell. But it brought a fleeting smile to his face, hearing the bips and chirps of Emily over the delighted squeals of Entrapta. Imp sat to one side, mouth open as he merrily looped various shouts and yells to add to the chaos.

Seeing them made up his mind.

He approached, standing to the side as he nervously combed his hair back, fussing over the way it swept across his forehead. She noticed him and it was almost seamless, the transition from full-out brawl Entrapta to attentive Entrapta, as she stared up at him, grinning widely.

He cleared his throat and tapped open the camera. It was now or never.

"Entrapta, might I ask a favour?"

(On a wall of happy memories and photographs, one picture was always kept at the centre. The four of them, with Imp grinning wildly from atop Hordak's mussed hair, Emily proudly front and centre. And Entrapta, smiling so brilliantly, with her cheek pressed against Hordak's own blazingly red one. No matter how many images and drawings were added, they always revolved around that one perfect moment.)

  * _Wrapping a blanket around them while they are sitting down_



Entrapta was familiar with the driving force of inspiration. One might even say she did her best work when keeping her nose to the grindstone, going so far as to skip a few meals and nights of sleep. So when Hordak slipped into that familiar method, she really didn't have the heart to stop him.

He got so frustrated with failure that it was always a relief to see his proud little grin when things lined up  _ just right _ .

But working in Salineas was always a bit harder to watch. He kept his guard up a lot more in the aquatic kingdom, never truly releasing the tension in his shoulders. It was only her constant pestering that got him to remove his armour at all, and that was only when he was hidden away in his allotted bedchamber for the night.

Happily, they were back for their final week there. It was one last sweep to wrap things up, doing quality checks on the months of work they (mostly Hordak, he was truly  _ amazing _ ) had put into it.

Unhappily, it meant he hadn’t stopped working even once since they arrived. Even  **she** thought he was maybe overdoing it a bit.

She poked her head into his workspace, noting that while he wasn’t fidgeting with any tools at that exact moment (though his gifted hex driver was nearby, as always), he was positively glued to a screen. She crept into the room, eyes never leaving his hunkered form as she slinked over to Emily. A few taps here, a panicked mute there, and she pulled up video feeds for the last two hours.

He hadn’t moved  _ at all _ .

Her back twinged at the levels of discomfort he had to be in. Well, whenever she was uncomfortable… 

Another three minutes as she ducked out of the room and returned as quickly as she could, and he was still in the same position. At this point she was fairly certain he had frozen like that.

She carefully approached, holding her precious bundle in her hands. She didn’t want to disturb him, not in the slightest, so she would have to be  _ sneaky _ .

She shifted as close as she dared, skittering low to the ground on silent hair. Only when she was just close enough to touch him did she slowly extend her hair forward, bundle unfurling into her favourite plush blanket. She gently scuffed her foot against the floor, waiting for his ear to twitch in acknowledgement. She didn’t want to  **scare** him. At the slight ear movement she dropped the soft weight around his shoulders and bolted.

She clung to the doorframe, watching as his jaw angled slightly in her direction, a tiny smile just visible. He never fully turned away from his work, but claws reached up and tangled into the blanket, tucking it around his frame. She stayed just long enough to watch his ears droop in satisfaction.

It really was the  **best** blanket.

(Hordak didn’t remember falling asleep. He only remembered reviewing 3D renderings of the finished reconstruction, and then waking up, his cheek pressed to the desk, with the pure comfort of Entrapta’s scent all around him. Plush blankets did a fair job absorbing slight moisture, which was especially lucky considering he  _ absolutely _ did not drool in his sleep. There was certainly no evidence to support the claim.)

  * _Rubbing the back of their hand with a thumb_



Queen Glimmer had sent the invitation, and Hordak had been the one to receive it. A (very large) part of him considered just- giving it to Imp, and letting the spy do with the envelope as he pleased. But it wasn’t his place to conveniently lose the summons to Bright Moon, no matter how tempting. So he had walked to Entrapta, ears flat, and handed it over.

She had squealed in delight, grabbed his hands, and he found himself willing to agree with whatever she wanted.

Parties were still very much not his style. He did well enough with introductions and formality. It was the  _ small talk _ that he despised.

(And the music. The atmosphere. The people, also. Perhaps he was just bad at parties.)

But Entrapta was becoming more and more welcome among the Alliance, and even just watching her laugh and dance wildly about with Scorpia was worth the stress. And it was not just Scorpia’s efforts at friendship that appealed to him. Not everyone in the room understood Entrapta's aversion to touch, some people getting almost too close, too insistent. Perfuma surprised him, acting as a bodyguard of sorts to Entrapta. He found her value rising slightly in his mind.

The music changed from a lively song to a smokier one, slow and far too intimate for his preference. It was some social cue he didn’t understand, apparently, as Scorpia whisked Perfuma away, couples all across the room pairing up. He crossed his arms, ears twitching slightly as Entrapta made her way over to him. He expected her to stand beside him, observe the crowds as she loved to do.

He did not expect her to stand in front of him, hand stretched out as she grinned and waggled her eyebrows. He blinked, looking from her hand to her face, before slowly setting his hand atop hers. She gave a gentle tug, pulling him onto the floor (blessedly still close to the edge of the crowd. He couldn’t handle being in the centre, not with the open back of his current garb so visible to everyone).

Couples stepped together, some in an elaborate dance while others just swayed to the music. Catra and Adora took centre floor, their movements far too quick for the slow song as they turned the dance into a competition. He silently thanked them, as that left only a handful of party-goers openly staring at Entrapta and himself, too distracted by the fancy footwork of the pair that had saved the world.

He had heard comments, of course he had. People looked down on Entrapta for her association with him. She wasn’t doing herself any favours as they stood together, and especially not when she rested her hair, and then her hand atop, on his side. Her other hand, unburdened by hair, gently held his own as she carefully swayed. She was _dancing_ with him.

His free hand floundered in the air as his eyes raced across the room, trying to see who was watching, who would make snide comments about her choice in a dance partner. The only eyes he caught were of Double Trouble, and their grin was not mocking. Instead, they swirled a delighted Kadroh onto the floor, seemingly daring Hordak to put up a fuss. Kadroh looked far too entertained for him to be concerned. Besides, if Double Trouble hurt the innocent clone, he would be dealing with much more than Hordak. Frosta had her eyes glued on the pair, yet another thankful intervention. She was not a fan of Entrapta’s choices, and clearly told anyone willing to listen. Would she lose interest in Double Trouble’s meddling and come take him from Entrapta?

Entrapta released his hand, and he jumped, wondering if he had already done something wrong. Or did she just realize how bad it looked, to be in his arms?

But she just grabbed his floundering hand, placing it on her suspendered shoulder, before taking his free hand in hers once more. She shot him a nervous grin, before slowly making tiny circles against the back of his hand with her thumb. It was a simple thing, just a gentle, rhythmic pressure on the back of his hand.

That tiny motion made everything else fade into the background.

(She spent most of the ‘dance’ watching their feet, making sure neither of them stepped on the other. Hordak’s heeled shoes would hurt, and her heavy boots would be more than unpleasant. But in the moments she did look up, her face made it plain that she didn’t care one bit what others thought. He realized he was a fool for ever thinking to worry.)

  * _Giving them a back massage while they lay on a couch_



Something had shifted after the party at Bright Moon, that much was obvious. Entrapta wasn’t quite sure  **what** it was, but it was there.

And as with any unknown query, she needed to study it.

They were not long off the transport back home, and Hordak was obviously feeling the strain of the journey. He had opted to attend the party in a simple black gown, the back open to easier attach the armour. Armour he had chosen to go without for the function.

It was easy to see how he favoured his shoulders after so much movement without the support. She wondered if she should have pushed for him to wear some kind of armature, but he had looked so nice in the black dress. And he had been happy, too, to be so unburdened.

She made a note to work on an even simpler brace, one that would let him wear lighter clothing without interference.

But that was a future problem. The current problem was in the form of a nigh-seven foot tall lab partner draped over her couch. He was, obviously, far too tall for it, his knees bent over one end while his shoulders and neck rested against the other.

She thought back to the bold surge she had gotten when she had approached him for a dance. Contact was still tricky, but... it was easier with him. Much easier.

She circled the couch, coming up behind him. His eyes stayed closed, but his ears flicked in her general direction as she moved. She stood directly behind his shoulders, biting her lip as she flung her hands in thought. Could she...?

The muscles in his shoulders bunched and he made a tight chirruping sound. It was enough to decide for her. She sat down, her hair forming a nifty chair, and reached forward. Her gloves might be a bit scratchy, but at this stage in their experimentation they would be required.

Carefully she touched the couch, just above where his shoulders pressed into the material. He cocked his head, opening one eye to glance at her, questioning. She gave a nervous smile, before a strand of hair flipped her mask down. Easier to do this if she could hide her face.

Her hands met his shoulders, and instead of thinking about touching _him_ , she thought about him as a series of interlocking pieces. A machine where the tension was too tight. All she had to do was rub at the tight mechanics to loosen them.

It became a bit easier the more she thought of him as a machine needing work; no different than fixing Emily. Except it made her happier, to know that she was fixing _Hordak_. And as he relaxed against her, she felt a little stirring of pride.

She had never been good at working with organic beings before. It had always been a science that evaded her. Maybe **he** could help her fix that.

(Hordak was never one to demand attention from her. But he did heavily suggest it. It became commonplace for him to glide into their Sanctum and perch on her overstuffed purple sofa, tapping away at his data pad until she joined him. It was still a learning game, how much contact they were both comfortable with, but it was definitely one they were working on improving. Entrapta had so many other theories to test, after all.)

  * _Getting them a coffee just the way they like it_



Hordak woke up feeling far more refreshed than he could ever recall. He slipped the light-frame braces into place, the connection to his ports made painless by Entrapta’s constant fiddling. The new armatures were so small compared to his armour of old that he almost felt whole again. A proper clone, instead of just a defect.

It was incredible.

He stretched as he left his bedchamber, pausing outside Entrapta’s door to peek in. Her nest of purples and reds were in their normal disarray, and lacking one princess. She must have gotten a head-start on him.

And if she was up before him, that meant she was awake without coffee.

He smiled softly, heading for the little beverage setup they had built together. He didn’t care for the bitter drink, but to her it was a 'double-dose of battery power’, required to make her function. An organic energy source, she said.

Entrapta brewed the coffee to be as black and dark as she could manage. If he found it unpalatable before, the monstrosity she poured into her cup was an abomination. It was nigh-sludge. But it kept her awake, and she stated that was its intended purpose.

The first time he had made it on his own, Entrapta had been heavily asleep after a late night. He had no clue what he was doing, and it was not worth waking her up to ask. He was resourceful, and he had wanted to have it ready and waiting. With a few simple taps at his data pad, he had consulted Adora, aware that she was as much a fan of the strange brew as Entrapta. She had been taken aback to receive his call, but had been more than informative in teaching him how to make it.

The resulting brew was off, and he told her as much, but she had just shrugged and promised him that he was indeed holding coffee. He took that for what it was, gave her a curt thanks, and disconnected. When he carefully handed the cup (too lightly coloured, almost pleasantly scented) to a bleary Entrapta ten minutes later, she hadn’t even glanced before taking a hearty gulp.

That was the first of many times that he was requested to make coffee.

Apparently, coffee the colour of midnight was purely _functional_. It kept one awake. But coffee the colour of cinnamon bark was flavourful, plain and simple. And she _liked_ it.

He was not a fan of the beverage, but of the two of them he certainly made it better.

(It was a good feeling, the little zing of success at making a perfect cup that had her close her eyes in delight at the first sip. She always made sure to tell him how perfect it was. Watching her, as the sun rose behind and lit her face up, he couldn’t help but agree.)

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> If you made it this far, please let me know what you thought, or drop a kudos! Also, another huge thank you to all readers for of Etheria! I think I will do another oneshot when we hit 100 subscribers, and perhaps every 25-50 after. If you have any story requests, please feel free to drop them in the comments, or message me on Tumblr (keaton-collective)!
> 
> As always, thank you for reading, cheers, and stay safe!


End file.
